After all of yesterday’s borderline-nauseating Pollyanna optimism, it turns out that we never did make it to last night's game. I had too much work, Ho had too much work, the tickets turned out to be not so most excellent after all, and it just wasn’t gonna happen.
I was very grumpy about this last night.
But remember that bit about the Hormel Row of Fame?
Right about the time the Twins were two innings into their THRID WIN IN A ROW (never mind the fact that the Royals pretty much beat themselves, ‘cuz it still totally counts as a win for US), I got an unexpected call from…
Yep.
The ex.
After over a year of conflict, non-resolution, bile, venom, and lawyer’s fees, he called to extend an olive branch. He’s tired of fighting. And he’s scared to go in front of what he called a “man-hating judge.” He wants to make a deal.
I will tell you, it freaked me the hell out.
Bear in mind, my ex is a person whose story changes about every 18.5 minutes. But I am going to take him at his word and call my lawyer this morning.
You just never know.
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